In Love There Shouldn't Be War
by Orange Socks and Polka Dots
Summary: What happens when Spot Conlon and Joe Pulitzer Junior fall for the same girl? Well, you'll just have to read to find out.
1. Music Lessons

This is my first FanFic!

Obviously I do not own the newsies, silly. So far my only original characters are Claire and Mr. Wringer but I'll probably add more. Oh, you got disclaimer-ed!

I'm still working on the story so it may take some time for me to update again. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. Thanks for reading!

Oh, by the way I'm not sure where I'm going with the rest of the story, so any ideas would be simply marvelous. :o)

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The sun came in and out of sight as the massive gray clouds that filled the sky causing New York City to drift in and out of dark and light. The curbs had dark, ugly slush on them but only feet away the edges of the sidewalk lay a blanket of white snow. The black lampposts had red ribbons tied around them and brightened the dreary day with a reminder of Christmas, which was quickly approaching. In a small and welcoming shop filled with all sorts of musical instruments, a 14 year old girl sat by herself. Despite the lack of customers and other employees to keep her company, she did not feel lonely. She sat content at the piano and gazed at the keys trying to remember a song she had been taught so long. Her fingers drifted towards the black and white stripes and she gracefully played several scales. Before she realized what she was doing, she began to play a happy Christmas tune. She was so lost in the music she did not here any footsteps nor did she know anyone else was in the room until a long, wrinkled finger tapped on her shoulder. 

She was so frightened and embarrassed that her boss had heard her play she jumped off the stool and lost her balance. She only avoided falling by slamming her right hand down on the piano keys and causing an awful noise to emit. _Oh, great now he's going to think I'm not only absolutely insane, but he's going to think I damage his instruments._"I am so sorry Mr. Wringer." She apologized, unsuccessfully trying to hide the panic in her voice. She straightened her dress and stood erect, but she could not calm down. It was only her first day working here and she did not want to lose the job. Mr. Wringer, who stood at least six foot five, looked intimidating, even though he has seemed so kind and soft-spoken before. Claire was still incredibly nervous because she knew even a gentle man could have an awful temper.

But Mr. Wringer did not enter into a fit of rage, he instead chuckled softly at how jumpy his new employee was. "Not to worry, not to worry. You play beautifully"

"Not really, that's all I know. A friend of my brothers taught it to me" she sheepishly replied. Her tone suggested that she was only being modest, but the truth was she was very uncomfortable around any adult males. She had no pleasant experiences around them. She had never met her father; she didn't mind really, she could not miss someone who had never been in her life. He hadn't left her mother but he was in jail. Her first time being around men had been at the refuge, a sort of jail for children , many of which were orphaned like herself, where she and her brother were sent after their mother disappeared. The guards, who seemed gigantic, seemed to take pleasure in nothing more than scaring her. Her brother didn't stay long, he broke out in under a month. He promised to come back for her soon, but not until he had enough money to support both of them. She would have been lonely had it not been for Spot Conlon who was there for stealing. He was two years older, and was fearless it seemed. When the hulking guards yelled at Claire, he yelled right back, and afterwards he comforted her, telling her not to be afraid and that they wouldn't hurt her.

When Claire's brother, Jack came back several months later he helped her and Spot sneak out. Jack, who had been selling papers to survive, taught Spot. Spot returned to Brooklyn where he lived and continued to sell papers. Over time, he became Brooklyn's newsies' leader. Claire and Spot hardly ever saw each other anymore after that. He would come to Manhattan now and then, but it wasn't the same as seeing each other everyday. Still whenever someone bothered her, he was there for her. Even after all those years Spot was there and protected her from anything that threatened or frightened her.

"Well you seem to be a natural. Perhaps I could give you lessons when the shop isn't busy. In fact, after a snowstorm like that, I highly doubt anyone is thinking about leaving their homes, especially to buy musical instruments. It seems now is the opportune time to start." Mr. Wringer said congenially. Claire, forgetting her embarrassment and precautions, eagerly nodded and pulled another stool up to the piano as Mr. Wringer sat in the one she had previously occupied. The rest of the afternoon pasted without interruptions and Claire proved to be a quick learner.

At five o'clock the tiny bell above the shop's door tinkled and in walked Jack Kelly. He saw Claire smiling as she played a basic song on the piano. An older man stood in the next room polishing a violin. She hadn't noticed him so he coughed quietly. Claire looked up and smiled sheepishly. "Mr. Wringer offered to give me lessons. You don't mind, do you"

"Naw, not at all. Youse sound real nice. Ready to go? Some of the boys are goin' down to Medda's tonight. Youse wanna come"

"Yeah, that would be nice." Claire then turned and called "Mr. Wringer, am I done for the day?" He nodded and she grabbed her coat and walked out of the warm shop and into the cold city street behind Jack.


	2. Medda's

Please please review this guys! I'm too scared to letpeople I know read it so I need your feedback!

Yeah, I know... I'm groveling.

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Claire had a hard time keeping up with Jack. She had to jog. Normally she would have asked him to slow down, but the faster she moved the warmer she kept. They both had their arms crossed across their chests and their feet fell into the same timing. Their body language was so much alike, as were there looks. They where physically similar but there personalities and speech where almost opposites. Jack was outspoken, fearless and rough. Claire was soft-spoken, timid, docile and always tried to be as polite as possible. In fact, she was still very much like the scared nine year old she had been in the refuge. Jack had a strong New York accent, she did not. Her mother, for the few years of Claire's life she had spent with her, did not tolerate "young women adapting to such crude manner of speaking." Jack had spent most days with his father out and about in the city and had picked up the classic New York accent. As different as they were, they both cared for each other immensely. They were the only family they had, besides the newsies of course.

"Who all is going to be there, Jack"

"Ah, let's see … Race, Davie, Blink, Mush. Oh yeah, Spot and some of his boys are gonna be coming up. Theyse is spending the night." Upon hearing Spot was coming, Claire's entire face lit up. She looked down because she didn't want Jack to see her excitement.

"So, hows was your foist day at the shop?" Jack asked. He was very protective of his sister and didn't want her working for a pig. People always seemed to be protective of Claire. She did not act like a damsel in distress for attention like some other girls who were desperate to be noticed by the newsies. It was just her innocent nature that people never wanted to see her loss to the cruelness of the city. Sometimes she was thankful that she was cared for but other times she secretly wanted to be independent and tough … like Jack.

"It was really good. My boss is so kind and he is paying me far more than he should." Jack laughed quietly at that and Claire smiled.

"There wasn't a single customer. I think Mr. Wringer just owns the shop as a hobby. He seems like he has money, judging by his wardrobe and how much he's paying me." They both laughed as they walked into the square.

There was a group of teenagers who were waiting for them. Jack's friends, Spot and three of his friends and David's sister Sarah were all there. "What took youse so long, Cowboy?" Racetrack asked in a heavier accent then Jack's or anyone else's in the group. "Wese was freezing"

"Ah, quit cha ballin' Race. Youse just showed up, ya scab." joked a familiar voice. The Brooklyn accent made Claire smile ear to ear.

"How's it goin' Cowboy?" Spot said.

"Eh, it's winter. No one wants to buy a pape when it's zero degrees. They just wants to get inside." Jack said as they walked down the icy street. It was already getting dark and everyone was shivering. As they rounded the corner, they saw a sign with flashing lights. They entered the theater all, talking amongst themselves.

"Hey, hey, hey. Youse goils wanna sit wit us?" A drunk man shouted towards Sarah and Claire. Both of them blushed and looked at the floor as the man and his companions laughed.

"Back off, scum!" Shouted Spot before anyone got in another word. Jack was just as furious; he had the most reason to be. One of the girls was his younger sister and the other his girlfriend. Feeling Spot had said everything that was needed, he just glared threateningly.  
They found a row of seats for all of them. Jack made sure he sat by Sarah and on his other side sat Spot. Claire was next to Spot and Race. Racetrack Higgins always made her laugh and even Spot lightened up and seemed to forgot the drunk man. Everyone laughed and talked until the lights were lowered and the theater was dark except for a single spotlight. The curtains we pulled back and a woman with red curly hair in a baby blue dress sat on a swing. She stood up and began to sing. Her voice was so strong and there wasn't a single note of self-doubt.

The boys cheered and all eyes seemed to be locked on her. All except two pairs. Two pairs of eyes looked into the other's. Two hands slipped into each other. Ten fingers intertwined. Two people realized how much they needed each other.


	3. The Apartment

Yay! It's Chapter Three! Tell me what you thing. I'm simply dying to know. ;o)

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As the curtains closed and the lights rose, Claire let go of Spot's hand and smiled at him. He thought her smile was perfect and he'd do anything to keep it that way. To him she was amazing. He hated letting go of her hand.

The group murmured praises about the show and started to get ready to leave. Jack offered to walk home with Sarah and David. Other than Claire and Spot, everyone else went to go talk to Medda. Spot had decided to spend a few nights in Manhattan, much to Claire's delight. They walked out of the theater into the bitterly cold evening. Spot wrapped his arm around her when she started to shiver.

"Jack says youse is lookin' for an apartment of youse own. I think I knows of a place youse might like." He said casually.

"Oh, really? I'd love to see it. Kloppman is probably at Medda's so we'd be locked out. We could go see it now, if you feel like it."

"Yeah, let's go. It's pretty close. Just a block or two down. It's not in a bad part of town or anything. It's pretty close to the bridge."

"Oh, that's good. My new job is close to the bridge."

"New job? Don't you like sellin' papes?" Spot said lifting up his eyebrow.

"I liked it, I really did. It's just that the older I get, the less people buy. I mean it was nice to buy from a little girl when I was little, but as a young woman it's been harder. I thought it was high time I got a job that was . . . a little less freelance. You know?"

"Yeah, I understand. I guess I'm gonna see even less of youse now?" His voice sounded slightly hurt.

"It doesn't have to be like that!" Claire didn't even think of that and seeing him look at the ground in disappointment nearly broke her heart. Unlike Spot, she could not hide her emotion as well. "Once I have my own apartment, I'll make you dinner whenever you can find the time. It's not as if I'm abandoning the newsies! I'll still see them when I'm not working and I'll still see you!"

"Promise?" Claire wasn't sure if his last remark had been a question or a command, but either way her answer stayed the same.

"Yeah, I promise."

"Here we are." Spot came to a halt in front of a tall building, hoping she would like it. There was a warm light emitting from the main room. It was nice, but not ritzy. It looked like it would be a bit expensive for Claire's budget, but not wanting to offend Spot, she didn't say anything. They walked in and a man sat in a stool at a desk.

"Goo' evenin' Mr. Conlon. Hows may I be of assistance to youse and your lovely guest." The man I obviously knew Spot. Spot took pride in being treated politely by this usually rude man. But with a reputation like his, Spot Conlon demanded and received respect.

"Do youse got any empty apartments, Demsey? I want to see the nicest one youse got." Spot said, knowing he'd be offered a dirt cheap price even for the best they had. Claire did not however realize his plan and blushed knowing she couldn't afford it. Her job at the shop might pay well, but she still didn't have any savings. She smiled weakly in return of Spot's sincere grin. She did appreciate all he was doing to help her, but she was embarrassed by her lack of money.

"Yes, yes, yes. Follow me, follow me." Mr. Demsey said jumping off his stool and leading them up three flights of stairs. He opened a door with a big 307 on it, revealing an empty sitting room with cheery yellow walls and big windows. There were three more doors that led to a kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom. It wasn't huge but it was considerably better than a single bunk in the Lodging House.

"Wow. Oh, it's wonderful." Claire said taken aback. She was so in love with the apartment she forgot about the price and began to look around the other rooms. They were almost empty. There were counters and coupoards in the kitchen. There was nothing in the bedroom and a tall bookshelf in the sitting room. The bathroom was the only room that didn't need many new things.

While she was admiring the kitchen, Spot was determining a price with Mr. Demsey. "Its nice, but she ain't payin' that much for it." He nodded as Demsey continued to lower the price. "Yeah, that sounds right." He mumbled when Demsey six dollars a month was a fair price. "Claire, come in here." He called towards the bedroom. "Mr. Demsey says six dollas a month and it's yours."

"That's great!" She was estatic. She hugged Spot, knowing it was because of him she was going to be able to live here. Of course, it was a little wrong of him to bully Demsey into a cheap price, but she didn't care. The apartment was cozy and warm and perfect.

"Well, she'll take it." He said to Demsey over Claire's shoulder in a suprisingly business liketone for a man beign bear hugged. "I'll take tomorrow off so we can start moving you in." Hesaid into Claire's ear.


	4. Plans For Tomorrow

This chapter, um yeah, it's basically pointless.

Oh by the way, my **four** reviews make me a happy girl. :o) Keep 'em comin'!

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"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Spot Conlon, that was the sweetest thing ever." They were back outside in the cold air, walking hand in hand.

"It was nothin'. Just don't tell a buncha peoples that Ise got a nice side. I've got a reputation you know." He said as he shrugged his shoulders. Claire stood up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. Thank God it's dark and she can't see me blush. Spot thought to himself as he smiled down at her. He may not have been very tall, but Claire was so petite she made anyone look tall. "So, where are we gonna get you some foiniture from?" He asked tossing his head to get hair out of his gray-blue eyes.

After a hesitation Claire said "Well, I guess we could get some stuff from my parents' old house."

"Are youse gonna be alright goin' back dere?" Spot didn't know the full story but he did know she hated it from the bits of information she had leaked out over the years.

Thinking about it for a few minutes, Claire nodded and said "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just an old house, right?" Trying to sound braver than she felt.

"Well, I'll be dere for you. If you change your mind, youse just say the word and we'll leave." His hand slipped out hers and around her waist.

"You don't know how much that means to me Spot." She whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder. "But, how are we going to move everything across town?"

"I've got an idea. Just meet me at the house tomorrow morning." He held open the door to the Lodging House for her and followed her in. The room was full. Everyone had gotten back before them and looked up for a second when they walked in and took off their coats.

Heading towards a table where the older boys were playing a game of poker Claire told Jack about the apartment. He was glad she had found a place, he knew how bad she had wanted it. He still worried about her living by herself. "It's all right Jack. You and the guys can come over and check up on me anytime. You might just get a meal while you are there." she added with a wink.

Eventually everyone headed to bed and Claire and Spot went to sleep thinking about one of the best days they had had in a long time.


	5. Moving Day

**I want a hippopotamous for Christmas, but reviews will be just as good. ;o)**

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That night Claire dreamt about a small, dark woman screaming awful things she didn't understand. The woman pulled a seven-year-old version of herself by the hair violently while she cried, asking "What did I do Mommy? You're hurting me!" The woman just pulled harder and pushed her down a flight of cold, dark stairs leading to a damp basement. She fell head over heels and lay crumpled on the floor sobbing. After a little while she saw light from the top of the stairs that hurt her eyes and Jack ran down. He hugged her and led her up towards the painfully clean kitchen where their mother stood menacingly. She began to beat Jack and as hard as she tried Claire couldn't turn away or make any noise when she tried to scream.

"Claire? Are you okay?" Jack asked as he woke up his sister who was suddenly very pale. He had heard her tossing and turning all night and he was worried going back to their old home would be too much for her. He knew how scarred she was from being abused there. She had been delicate since then. He knew she was getting better, she was finally able to let people touch her without feeling threatened, but going back there could bring back so much pain for her.

"Yeah," she said weakly. "I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

"Well, are youse still up for this?" he questioned and she nodded yes. "Here are some clothes for today. You don't need a dress fo' movin'. I'll meet cha downstairs. Be quiet, everyone else is asleep."

Claire thanked him and went to get changed in the bathrooms. She stood in front of the mirror feeling groggy. Her curly hair seemed to be sticking out everywhere and defying gravity. Once it was brushed out she thought about the strange color of it. It was an odd mix of her father's dark red hair and her mother's almost black making a brownish-burgundy shade. She pulled it up and used some twine to tie it. She stuck it all under a gray cap strategically placing it to avoid a giant lump on her head. She really looked like a boy in the trousers, shirt and hat.

She walked down the stairs slowly. She was thinking about how the lodging house wasn't her home anymore. It made her a little sad but she knew now was the right time to get a place of her own. Plus the apartment Spot had found her was perfect. "Some a the other guys said they're gonna come ova ta help once theyse done wit der papes." Jack said, not really expecting an answer. His sister wasn't a morning person. She just yawned and nodded sleepily.

When they reached the old house Spot was leaning up against a wagon big enough to move everything in one trip with his arms crossed over his chest. His signature smirk seemed to silently chuckle at Claire's surprised, smiling face. "Wow, where did this some from?" she asked petting one of the two horses in the harness.

"I borrowed it from a guy I know." His tone was different from the one he had used last night with Claire. It was harsher, not mean, just more authoritative. He smirked, obviously proud of how he'd come through to help someone her cared about again but didn't want to show it. Claire wasn't surprised, he had to act like the smooth, tough leader of the Brooklyn around anyone but her. She knew his reputation was everything to him. "Well, wese gottastoit finding' you some stuff, right?"

Nodding and gathering all her nerve, Claire followed the boys up the stairs of the wrap-around porch. It had obviously been ignored since the Sullivan's had all left. Her and Jack had apparently forgotten to lock the doors so many years ago when they were the last to leave after realizing their mother wasn't coming back. Everything was the same, so much the same it bothered Claire. What disturbed her the most was seeing her old bedroom. It didn't look like it belonged to a scared, abused girl. It's lilac walls and frilly fabrics suggested it was a happy, rich girl's who's every wish was carried out. She had to leave almost immediately.

Besides that incident everything went smoothly. Unlike what Jack and Spot had expected, Claire remained completely emotionless. She felt empty more than anything. She couldn't explain it, but the closest feeling to it was deprived, deprived of a childhood, deprived of love, deprived of security. She did her best to hide it and Jack, Spot and other newsies that stopped by to help bought it.

Even though it had caused certain memories to resurface, Claire decided that it was worth it as she looked at the wagon full of furniture and boxes. Spot jumped up and she sat next to him while Jack hopped in the back with Blink and Racetrack who had been helping. The trip back towards the bridge was quick, but Claire got off early to do a quick bit of shopping so she could make dinner for the boys that had been so nice to stay this long. She picked up some bread and sliced ham from the nearest general store and hurried back to the apartment.

When she got back the amount of help had almost doubled and almost all of the furniture was in the apartment waiting to be put in its proper place. She helped move the aged table and tables into the small sunny kitchen. Spot, Jack and Mush were all hauling a big tan armchair up the stairs. Race, David and Blink were reassembling the bed in the sage-colored bedroom. Dutchy and Boots slid the burnt-orange couch across the into place in front of the fireplace. Though the work was hard the boys made fun of each other and faked fights which made everything more fun.

Around five thirty Claire made the dinner out of what she had bought for everyone. They all sat talking and laughing. Claire kept catching Spot staring at her, but she wasn't the only one. Jack saw his friend's gaze fall on his sister multiple times. If it hadn't been for David not minding Jack being with Sarah, he would have been outraged. Falling in love with Sarah, his friend's sister, had changed his opinion. He realized that you can't help who you fall for, you just have to hope they catch you. In fact his was relieved it was Spot and not someone he didn't trust.

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**Authors Note: I'm sorry guys, I tried. I really tried. I wanted to get the chapter on Christmas out before Christmas but its 10:30 on Christmas Eve and soon my parents will be very agitated I'm still up. (I know it isn'tlate but there's no point to arguing with them.) I hang my head in shame. Teehee. Anyways, it'll be up soon-ish I think. **


	6. Good Morning Sunshine

My last chapter didn't get any reviews. I pouted.

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas. I got some gel pens so my rough drafts are colorful and sparkly! I thought you should all know that.

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Almost everyone had left and gone home, wherever home was. Most went back to the lodging house, others had a family and those who hadn't sold enough today were settling down in a back alley hoping to make it through the night. Jack and Spot were still in the apartment, sprawled out across the living room furniture and Claire was in the kitchen putting the last of the glasses into the cupboards. When she finished she threw the box into a corner already filled with boxes and walked into the other room. She shoved Spot's feet off the couch and plopped herself on the overstuffed cushion where they had been. After a few minutes of silence, Claire said "I'm beat. You guys can spend the night on the couches if you want. I'm going to bed." She stretched her arms, stood up and made her was towards her bedroom.

"G'night." Spot and Jack called towards the bedroom.

"I got dibs on the big sofa!" Spot cried as he jumped to take up as much space as possible on it.

"Dammit Spot, I'm bigger than you." Jack sulked, too tired to put up a fight for the choice "bed." He tried to get comfortable on the love seat but his legs hung off the edge. He grumbled about soaking Spot when he could move again and Spot just smirked into his pillow as he pulled a blanket off the back and onto himself.

The Next Day

Claire woke up before either of the boys, got dressed and took another trip to the store she had been to the day before. She got enough food for the next few days for her and any newsies that might stop by. (She had told them all they could stop by when they felt like it.) When she got back Spot and Jack had hardly moved and slept on. She giggled quietly and walked across the room to the kitchen. She fried a few eggs, two for each of the boys and one for herself and set the table. When breakfast was ready, she was tempted to make as much noise as possible to wake them and instead poked them. "Breakfast boys!" she declared cheerfully.

"Ah." Jack looked disgusted by her peppiness. "Ise thought youse hated moinin's."

"I do," Claire's liveliness wasn't daunted by her brother's disapproval. "But this hardly feels like morning to me. I've been up over an hour."

"Well, Ise think this is proof of the fact that youse are insane." Jack said following her and Spot into the kitchen.

"Get over it, Cowboy. You would have been up by now if you were at the lodging house. Plus, ya wouldn't have a nice breakfast to wake up to." Spot said winking at Claire. She looked down hiding her smile from her brother. Jack was awake enough to whine, but not to catch them silently flirting.

"I guess youse two are so perky because youse gots a good night sleep on your bed and couches. Yeah, well I'm the one how had to sleep with my legs dangling off the edge of the love seat."

"Jack Kelly, you stop complaining this instant. I made you a nice breakfast, much better than the nuns' stale bread, so you had better wake up and cheer up." Clair put her foot down. Of course she would have been taken more seriously if she wasn't smiling. Either way, Jack lightened up and everyone enjoyed their breakfast.

It didn't take them long to finish and Jack left to get an early start. Claire started clearing dishes and stood in front of the sink looking out the window in front of it. Spot came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Good moinin' sunshine." The smile she gave him was an extremely happy and loving one. She finished and turned around, still in his arms. "Come on, I'll walk you to woik."

"Well, you are going to have to let go of me." she teased. They laughed as he guided her out of the apartment, holding any doors for her. "Vrrr, it's freezing." she said stepping out into the windy street.

"Ain't that New Yoik?"

"This way." she said pointing down the road that the shop was on.

"So, how do youse like the apartment now that its all put togetha?"

"I hate it." She answered with sarcasm drowning her statement. Spot playfully pushed her. He caught her off balance and she almost tripped, laughing hysterically as he caught her arm. "Here's the shop. You'd better get to the distribution center before they sell out."

"Yeah, I guess Ise should go." He turned to walk away, took two steps and turned around. "Wait," he said before she walked into the store, "You wanna go to Tibby's foa dinna tanight?"

"Mmhmm." she nodded, smiling.

"Good, it'll be my treat. See ya later Claire."

"Bye Spot!" she called as she went into the shop. Instead of a warm greeting from Mr. Wringer a stout woman tapped her foot threateningly as she glared at Claire.

"You are late. Three minutes late!" she cried melodramatically. "Those are three minutes of my life I will never get back. Do you think I should have to sit here laboring while you dither about with a filthy newsboy? No, I should think not!" Claire stood gawking at this woman, this lunatic, trying to find an answer to the previous remarks. Who was she and where was her boss?

"Ah, I see you've met my wife." Mr. Wringer said coming down the stairs from the second floor where he and his family lived and pulling on a coat. "I'm teaching some music lessons today so you'll be by yourself for a bit. Betsy, you can leave now. Thank you for standing in and giving the store three minutes of you oh, so valuable time."

The stout woman huffed out of the door only after snarling "Don't be late again." at Claire.

Mr. Wringer shook his head looking embarrassed. He looked back up and told Claire that a very rich client, Mr. Pulitzer, would be stopping by. He was probably going to make a big purchase and was to be treated with the utmost respect. Claire promised he would be as her boss hurried out the door.

Taking a seat behind the counter she thought "I can't believe the owner of the World Newspaper is coming piano shopping. That's bizarre, I never would have guesses old Joe would have been a music man."


	7. Joe Junior

This is the last FanFic I'm putting up in 2005! Happy New Year's everyone.

Your resoloution should be giving me more reviews. Hahaha, just kidding, but I would appreciate some feedback loves.

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The morning went by remarkably slow. She wished the store was closed more than once a week on Tuesdays. It was Wednesday, but after Friday the store was going to closed for the holidays for the rest of the week. Claire would sit down behind the counter, get antsy and pace, play with instruments and feel foolish and return to her original spot. She thought about Spot and going out to dinner. He had said it would be his treat, did that mean it was a date? Were all the guys going or would it be just the two of them? Was she supposed to meet him there or was he picking her up at the apartment? "Wow, I apparently know nothing when it comes to romantic relationships."She laughed at herself. This would take some getting used to.

She couldn't take her mind off of Spot until she was interrupted when a tall boy with slicked back black hair who looked about 17 walked in at noon, which was when the appointment with Mr. Pulitzer was scheduled. She realized that it was Joseph Pulitzer Junior, not senior. She had been sitting at the piano playing the same song she'd played two days before. When the little silver bell above the doorway announced his arrival, Claire spun on the stool and stood erect. "Good day. Mr. Pulitzer, I presume?"She said sweetly with false sincerity. Something about the way he walked in on a cloud of arrogance that only came from a lifetime of being spoiled made her cringe.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Claire Kelly, sir." She said nodding her head politely. "How may I help you?"

He hesitated before answering, looking her up and down greedily. It made Claire feel sick to her stomach. Who did he think he was, anyway? "I'm interested in purchasing a new piano." he said after examining her. Sleaziness seemed to ooze from his voice. Being courteous to him was becoming more difficult by the second for Claire.

"Well," She cleared her throat uncomfortably. He kept staring at her, without blinking. He was extremely unattractive with pale skin, beady eyes that seemed too far back in his head, puffy bright red lips, and warts scattered lightly on his paper white skin. His appearance resembled one of a sickly little boy, only he was chubbier. "What type are you looking for exactly?"

"A baby grand. I want it in black. I want your highest quality." His proud expression revealed that he was using his wealth in an attempt to show off to Claire.

Claire was disgusted with him. "Is he really trying to impress me with his money?" She wondered to herself. "Well, all of our pianos are in this room, if you would like to try one out."Claire answered aloud, hoping that she was hiding the fact that all she wanted was to get away from him.

"Which is the most expensive?" His voice sounded like the whine of a small boy trying to sound dignified only fairing miserably.

Claire could not believe this boy was trying to impress her like this. Masking a sigh she pointed to the one that stood on a platform. "This one." She was trying so hard to mask her annoyance. It was apparently working because the pompous smirk remained plastered to Pulitzer's face. "It's $400."

Without even sitting down to test it's sound, he declared he would take it and left, promising to be back tomorrow to pick it up. A few more customers came and went, buying sheet music and polish but no one else made any major purchases. At four o'clock Mr. Wringer returned from teaching lessons. Mrs. Wringer followed shortly after.

"You can go now Claire. I'll see you tomorrow." Mr. Wringer said at five o'clock.

"Mr. Wringer, I hate to ask you this but, may I take tomorrow off?"

"Why? Do you feel alright? Shall I have a doctor come?"

"Oh no, I feel fine. It's just ..." She trailed off, unsure if she should tell him the truth or not.

"Yes?"

"Well, you know how Mr. Pulitzer is coming tomorrow to pick up the piano?He made me very uncomfortable today and I was hoping I would be able to skip so I could avoid seeing him again. I'll make it up, I swear. I'll clean the entire shop ..."

"There is absolutely no way she is skipping tomorrow!"Mrs. Wringer had apparently been eavesdropping from the next room. She screeched at her husband, ignoring Claire's presence. "I saw Mr. Pulitzer today after lunch and the boy says he is in love," She spat out the last bit. "with Miss Kelly. Lord only knows why." She insulted Claire. "He asked if she would be here tomorrow and I told him yes so she has to be here, regardless of _uncomfortable _it makes her feel." Mrs. Wringer mocked her relentlessly. She turned towards Claire, actually speaking directly to her, something Claire would discover she would rarely do. "You treat that boy like you are his slave. Anything he wants, **he gets**." She hissed through crooked, clenched teeth.

Claire just nodded solemnly and hurried out the door, trying to escape Mrs. Wringer's wrath. While she walked down the crowded street she thought "I hate that woman. What does she think I am? A common prostitute? I can't believe I'm being treated this way. I never did anything to that God awful creature and she hates me for no reason. God damn her!" She hardly ever cursed, not even in her thoughts, but she had been ridiculed and mocked and insulted for no reason and she didn't care about thinking proper thoughts for the time being.

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**Well what do you think?**

**R&R**


	8. I'll moida 'im

"Jesus Claire!" Jack exclaimed after colliding with his younger sister. After picking up the newspapers he dropped he started to make fun of her, knowing she was already mad he thought he'd torment her. "In case youse 'aven't noticed, dis is New Yoik City. Do youse know what New Yoik City has? New Yoik City has tons 'a people walkin' around! Youse just gotta watch where yer goin', ya know?"

"Shut up, Jack! I'm not nine anymore! No, actually I wish you would treat me like I was nine again, 'cause you didn't give a damn about abandoning me in the refuge then!" She screamed as the hatred for everything that was pulsating through her was starting to settle down. She couldn't believe what she was saying. Those words were flat out cruel and she regretted them immediately.

Jack stood in shock. Was this really happening? This was the first time Claire had ever said anything about him having escaped without her. He had thought he was doing the right thing, but now, five years later, he was questioning his decision. As a twelve year old boy, he was smart enough to realize if he took Claire with him they would have a harder time getting situated. He wanted to have somewhere for her to sleep and food for her to eat and he knew that was guaranteed if she stayed in prison. The food wasn't good and there wasn't much to go around and the beds were lumpy and hard but it was better than what he could give her. But, had he been wrong to abandon her? He was so guilty about it that those words hurt worse then Morris Delancy's bronze knuckles. "Claire?" he went to touch her arm but she dodged out of his reach and began to run towards her apartment.

Hot tears trickled down her face and she was chastising herself in her head, saying things similar to what her mother had screamed at her. She told herself she was useless, worthless, didn't deserve love. Jack didn't do anything wrong and she just exploded. It wasn't his fault her boss's wife was the spawn of Satan. She would have gone out to find him but she knew he would be here to find out what was really wrong or to yell at her, hopefully not the latter.

The doorknob clicked and Jack walked in shuffling his hat nervously in his hands. He started to say what he had planned he would. "Claire, maybe Ise was wrong to lea-"

He would have finished but Claire was hugging him and begging for forgiveness. "I'm sorry Jack! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean what I said, I really didn't! Please forgive me! Oh, I feel awful." She was sobbing. Normally she wasn't much of a crier, or at least she cried quietly enough no one noticed, but today had been too much.

"Shh, it's alright. Calm down, shh. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't 'a mocked youse when Ise knew you were already angry." He pushed her away gently, still holding onto her shoulders. Like Claire wasn't much of a crier, he wasn't much of a hugger. "What happened that got youse all woiked up?"

"Ugh, it was awful. Pulitzer's son came into the shop today. Oh God, Jack, he was disgusting."

"Did he touch you? I swear I'll moida da basta'd!" Jack yelled loud enough for the neighbors to hear causing Claire to blush.

"No, he didn't touch me. According to my boss's wife, if he wants to, and her very well might judging by the way he looked at me, I'd have to let him when he comes tomorrow. She told me to give him whatever he wants, no matter what it is. I'm scared to go, Jack!" She finished, hysteria threatening to come back to her.

"Then I won't let you go. You aren't a goddamn whore and no one's gonna be allowed ta treat-cha like you are."

"If I don't go, I'll lose the job. Don't you dare say 'too bad' Jack, because this is the only time it's going to happen and then everything will be back to normal."

"Says who? Who is sayin' dis lady isn't gonna make you act like this foa every rich customer, huh?"

"She said that she saw him today and he said he was in love with me. That's why she wants me to give him whatever he wants."

"If youse give him 'what he wants', and Ise know youse know what he wants, he'll keep comin' back. He'll neva leave ya alone, Claire!" She knew Jack had a point, she just didn't want to admit it. "That's it, Ise was wrong about lettin' you quit sellin' papes. Tomorra' youse is goin' back ta bein' a newsie."

"No." She said defiantly. "I'm almost fifteen, Jack, I can take care of myself. Anyways, it's more dangerous out on the streets hawking papes then working in a shop." Her voice let Jack know that her decision was final and there was no point in trying to change her mind. "I'll think of something before tomorrow, I promise. Do you want something to drink?"

"Uh, yeah, could ja get me a glass 'a wata?" He replied and she disappeared into the kitchen to get it for him. He sat on the couch with his head in his hands trying to figure out how to keep Claire from work. He thought about making her think he was sick so she'd stay and take care of him like she always did, but he knew it wouldn't work; she was too smart. He was so mad at this guy. He hated his father for gouging them and causing the strike but now his son was after his sister. He wanted to kill him and he would have if he could. As Claire walked back in he changed the subject. "So when didja plan on tellin' ya brudda 'bout cho an' Spot Conlon?"

"What?" Claire hadn't thought about telling him, she wasn't even sure if it was serious or if Spot was just flirting with her. "How did you know?"

"Fiost off, it's obvious and second 'e told me. Thought I should give 'im permission oah somethin'. Boy, if moah a da guys you dated 'ad done that ..." He trailed off as he thought of the assholes she had seen before. "Anyways, even if youse weren't gonna tell me, Ise is glad it's Spot. He ain't such a bad guy, once ya stop listen' to rumors 'bout 'im. 'E wanted me ta tell ya he'll be here round seven thioty ta pick ya up and he's takin' ya somewhere odda den Tibby's and ya need to dress up."

"Oh really? Well, my dear brother, you have to leave now."

"Yer kickin' me out?"

"Yes. I have two hours to get ready and I need to shower."

"Say no more, I'm gone."

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**Hello my darling readers. The story is losing my interest so I'm not sure if I'm gonna finish it. If you want me to I will, but if not I'm just gonna delete it and start something new. Please tell me if you'd rather have this one finished or a whole new one.**


	9. Getting Ready

This is isn't a great chapter. My heart isn't in it. Too much drama with my "friend" treating me like shit has left me totally uninspired. Please be patient with me, the stories going to get better when I feel better about myself. Just bare with me for a bit.

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Claire did not own a formal dress. She owned two dresses, two skirts and three shirts and that was all she had ever needed. She started panicking, plagued with the dilemma women had been faced with centuries, the thought running through her head "What should I wear?" She thought of other girls she knew and the few she did were not the types to have fancy dresses. She sighed, wondering what she was going to do.

Suddenly , as if it was some sort of revelation, she remembered the backstage at Medda's place. There were rows upon rows of clothes, every color, type, and size. She locked the apartment and sprinted down the stairs, nearly knocking over a boy how was about her age, maybe older ,with black hair. She apologized and that's when she recognized him.

"Good day Ms. Kelly. You are just the person I was looking for." Joe Pulitzer said, sleaze oozing from his words.

"Ise t'ink yous've mistaken lil' ol' me foah someone else, ma dea' sir." she said putting on a fake accent and looking down to hide her face. She tore off running before he could get in another word. "Mr. Demsey, if Spot Conlon comes for me and I'm not back yet, let him know I'll be back soon, would you please?" She asked the landlord.

"Yes ma'am. Anythin' else ya need ma'am?" He said, as usual kissing up to her. He didn't know what was up with her and Spot, but he knew there was something and Conlon wouldn't have liked anything him treating her any different than a princess. Anyways, he liked her. She had always been polite and not caused any problems.

"No, Mr. Demsey. Thank you kindly." She said sweetly, before running off again. It would only be a matter of time before Pulitzer realized she wasn't home and came back down. Being a newsie for most of her life, she could run fast. She wasn't strong enough to fight the boys who would start something with her but she learned to outrun them. She made it to Irving Hall in record time and let herself in the back door. "Medda? Medda, are you here?"

"Oh, Claire! How ya been? The boys told me you were here the other night. Said you went off with that Spot Conlon. Now I always thought he was bit cheeky, but he sure isn't bad looking." She winked at the last part. She stopped after this, surprisingly enough. She could normally rant forever but she noticed Claire was out of breath. "Doll, you look like ya ran all the way here? You alright? Nobody's chasin' ya are they?"

Laughing Claire decided to get to the point. "Well, actually yeah. Ever since he stopped by the store I'm working in, Joe Pulitzer Jr. has been following me around. It's pretty scary - he claims to be in love with me. He showed up at my apartment and I ran before he realized who I was. But that's not why I came. Spot asked me out to a nice dinner tonight and he said it would be pretty formal. I, er well, I don't have any nice dresses and I was wondering if you could maybe let me borrow one?" She asked, blushing.

"Well, if I had anyone as rich as Pulitzer in love with me I wouldn't run, but they say our hearts work in strange ways. Back to your wardrobe situation, of course you can borrow something. Pick anything you like. I think you should wear white to offset those dark eyes of yours. Something simple and elegant, but stylish." Medda said as she looked through her costumes. "Aha, this one is perfect!" She declared pulling out a dress.

The silk sleeves stopped at the elbows and after that another six inches of red lace came down. It had a red sash around the waist. Medda walked up to her jewelry box and pulled out a ruby necklace on a silver chain. "Oh you are going to look amazing in this! You should wash your hair and then I'll put it up for you." Medda cried. She was truly taking this project to heart.

An hour and a half later, Claire came out of a dressing room looking more elegant than she ever had in her life. Medda was nearly in tears, it was like the little girl she bought papers from everyday was suddenly an beautiful young woman. "Oh, Medda!" Claire said when she looked in the full length mirror. "Thank you so much. You saved my night." Medda nodded, smiling, and pulled Claire into a hug.

"Any time honey. You look amazing. No wonder Spot asked you out." She joked. "Well you better get going. Have fun tonight!"

"I will! Thanks again, you are the best!" Claire said walking out of the theater wrapped in a red cloak also borrowed from Medda. For the first time since she had run away from home, people didn't shove her in the streets but instead made sure she had enough room. New York is funny like that, status and money are everything. She was almost home when a blond boy with a tan eye patch bumped into her.

"Sorry ma'am, so sorry. Are youse alright?" He said politely. "Claire? Claire is dat you?"

"Yeah Blink, it's me. I'm going out tonight."

"Youse look great! Where da hell ya goin' dat ya gotta be so dressed up foah?"

"Well," Claire blushed. She hadn't though about it until now but it was going to be weird when she told the guys about her and Spot. "Spot's taking me out and he said it was a formal place."

"Wonda where 'e's takin' ya?" Blink mused. "Sounds like youse gotta get goin' so I'll se ya lata." He hugged her and kept going down the street.

She walked back up to the apartment and pulled a book out. She had just gotten situated when someone knocked on the door. She hopped up eagerly, almost falling when she tripped on her skirts. She smoothed out he dress which was a nervous habit oh hers, took a deep breath and opened the door slowly. There stood Spot, holding a boutique of red roses and wearing a black suit.

"Wow." he exhaled. Staring at her in awe. She was a vision of beauty and whenever he thought of her from then on that's how he would see her.


	10. Almost Perfect

This chapter might be lame, but I like it. Haha, I know I'm a loser but it's kinda fun.

Sorry it took me so long to update. I've been sick all weekend, but I'm better now! I know you are all cheering and running victory laps. Actually you are not but Ican pretend.

Enjoy and review.

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"Youse look … amazing." Spot said. He couldn't get over it. He always knew Claire was pretty, but he'd never seen her like this. Some of her dark red hair was hidden beneath a red and white hat and the rest hung over her shoulders in soft curls. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her smile was wide.

"So do you." She said. He really did look great. Somewhere and somehow he had managed to find a tuxedo. "We must be going somewhere really nice."

"Yeah, it's nice. Come one, I've got a carriage waiting out side." He told her and took her hand, leading her down the stairs.

"A carriage?" The last time she has been in a carriage was when her family was still in one piece.

"What can I say? Ise got connections." He said smoothly. Spot really had put a lot of effort into putting this night together. Claire's happiness was important to him, and he wasn't afraid to impress her. "Your coach, m'lady." He helped her up into the carriage, acting more like a knight than a newsie, which made Claire giggle.

They talked the whole ride to wherever they were going. Spot wrapped his arms around her waist. Thousands of butterflies seemed to take flight in Claire's stomach when he kissed her neck. It tickled and the only thing that kept her from laughing out loud was that his lips had made their way up to hers. The kiss was soft at first, but they deepened it gradually. It was perfect, passionate and romantic, exactly how a kiss should be.

The carriage lurched to a stop and Claire almost fell off the seat. "Youse alright?" Spot asked after catching her. They both laughed while Claire nodded her head.

"Oh my goodness, Spot!" Claire looked up at the sign above the restaurant. "Le Cirque?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm good." He said casually, holding the door for her. She was still smiling so he figured he was still being a good date. They walked into a brightly lit entry way wear a man with his nose held high in the air met them.

"Do you have a reservation?" He was so stuck up, Spot just wanted to hit him.

"Whadaya think? 'Course we got a reservation. Conlon, ya know, **Spot Conlon**." Unfortunately, his arrogance and volume was going to have a consequence. Someone, not so far away had heard him and looked up. That someone was very unhappy with what he saw because what he saw was the girl he was infatuated with in the arms of some street rat from Brooklyn. Someone went to stand up but, his mother wouldn't let him. Mrs. Pulitzer didn't want her son to disgrace himself.

It was also very unfortunate that Spot and Claire were seated at a table adjacent to the Pulitzers' where Joe would see everything that happened that evening and they would not notice him. In the dimmer dining room Claire and Spot enjoyed each others' company. Every time Claire laughed or the boy touched her hand, Pulitzer felt his being fueled more and more.

The night was going perfect. Spot knew one of the waiters who had been a newsie so everything was free. After the dinner that should have been and seemed perfect he and Claire went for a walk in Central Park. They still didn't know they were being followed. When they settled down on a bench by the pond, a wreathing Pulitzer sat in a bush watching them cuddle and kiss. He wanted to kill him, whoever he was. When the couple headed towards in the direction of the apartment the shop lady had told him about earlier that day, Pulitzer went home sulking and brooding about how to handle the situation at hand.

"Vvvvr." Claire shivered as snow started to fall. Spot wrapped his arms around her and they came to a stop about a block away from Claire's apartment. He held her close and she said, "I love snow."

"You love everything."

"Well maybe not everything," Pulitzer came to mind but she pushed his image away, not letting the thought of him ruin a perfect moment, "but if there is one thing I do love, it's you Spot Conlon."

"I love you too." was all he said before lifting her up off the ground and kissing her.


	11. I Saw You Last Night

Sunlight flooded the room and woke Claire up. She was still on a natural high about last night. She remembered Spot dropping her off. 

"Please stay." Her green eyes looked up at him.

"I can't. If Jacky Boy found out …" He stared down at her. He wanted to so badly, but he wasn't going to. Jack had made him promise not to.

"Oh." She looked disappointed, but she understood. "I had a wonderful time. Thank you."

Instead of saying anything, he just kissed her softly on the lips. "Goodnight, angel."

She was humming to herself when she remembered who was coming back to the store today. "Oh well, I just have to deal with him today and then I won't see him anymore. How bout could he be?" She thought while dressing. She got a bun out of the cupboard and gathered the clothes she had borrowed from Medda in her arms and left the apartment. She made a quick stop at the theatre, returned the clothes, and headed back towards the shop.

Pulitzer was waiting for her and Mrs. Wringer stood there. As she walked in he stormed up to her. "You worthless whore!" He yelled and slapped her.

"What are you doing?" She cried out. Pulitzer was bigger and stronger than her and she was helpless and terrified.

"I saw you last night! I saw you! You were with some bastard in a tux."

"You saw me? Oh my God, you've been following me." This was a nightmare.

"Fuck yes I followed you! I thought I loved you, you bitch! You are just a whore who led me on."

"I never led you on, you stupid boy!" He just ignored her.

"Well if you act like a whore, I'll treat you like one!" He screamed. Mrs. Wringer just snickered, enjoying the show. He pushed her against the wall and himself against her. She tried shoving him off but he just threw her onto the ground.

"GET OFF OF ME!" She screamed over and over again, but he still straddled her. He began to run his finger between her naval and chest. "STOP IT!" Claire said punching him with her small fists. He lifted her up a foot off the floor by the shoulders and slammed her head against the hardwood. She cried out in pain.

Spot heard someone screaming somewhere down the street he was selling on. He made a point of staying near the shop where Claire worked. Jack had told him about the situation with Pulitzer. The screaming had definitely come from a girl. Knowing he was paranoid he tried staying calm. "It probably isn't her. I'se just gotta check." He said. His thoughts, however, contradicted the speed at which he was tearing down the street. He yanked open the door to the building where the noise was coming from and saw the worst possible situation and threw down his papers. A fat lady only made it worse when she grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back before he could get to Claire.

"Oh, you'se is the knight in shining armor come to rescue the fair damsel in distress?" She hissed sarcastically. She was twisting his arms so hard he cried out in pain. His cry got Claire's attention and she looked up to see Spot squirming to try and get to her and Pulitzer. Pulitzer saw and just grabbed her cheeks and made her face him, kissing her again.

"I'se is afraid you don't understand. Ms. Kelly choose this the day she got this job. This is business of a professional natcha'." The woman continued.

"Lemme go ya, crazy bitch!" He screamed and slammed her into a wall. She let go of his arms and slid down against the wall. Spot ran over to the asshole he saw forcing Claire's face against his. He pulled the overweight, unattractive kid off of Claire who retreated to a corner sobbing. This time Pulitzer was the one being thrown to the ground and being hit. "Don't cho EVA touch her again! You'se ain't even allowed to look at her!"

"Who the hell do you think are, you dirty little newsie?" Pulitzer spat out.

Spot pulled him to his feet by his collar. Looking him straight in the eye he said "I'se da goddamn king 'a Brooklyn, you asshole." With that he delivered the hardest punch he'd ever thrown and knocked Pulitzer out. He let him fall to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Claire, you'se alright?" Spot said. She was still in the corner hugging her knees, crying heavily. She had a black eye and bruises around her arms where he'd grabbed her. Her lip was busted open and the blood coming out of it was mixing with the tears that fell from her eyes. She hurt everywhere but it was the emotional trauma that upset her the most. "I'se swear he ain't neva gonna come near ya again." Spot helped her up and held her tightly. She couldn't talk yet and just cried into his shoulder. "We'se gotta get outta here befoah da bulls show up."

Claire nodded and he held her hand as they walked back to her apartment. "Spot?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"What was I supposed ta do? Let 'im rape ya?"

"Well you still saved me, I think you'se deserve a thanks regardless of whether you had to or not."

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I fine. Jack's going to flip though. He'll probably try to murder Pulitzer."

"Not if I kill em foist."

"Normally I would try to stop you, but I think it would be appropriate this time.

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This is one of the last chapters I think. Maybe, I might add more about what Pulitzer tries to do to Spot because we can't just pretend he disappears forever. (Wouldn't that be nice though?)

I just wanted to say thanks to everyone that has reviewed. They are all amazing writers and super duper in general! Everyone should check out what they've written. I'd do shout outs but I'm too lazy. But just one thing for RedRouge- **I warned you about last chapter! Haha! But maybe this one is just as cheestastic, only a different form of cheesiness.**


	12. It's Power Of The Press, Joe

**Here's my last chappie. (Yeah, I said it - chappie.)**

**Thank you to anyone who read and my reviewers, yeah I love them. If I could, I'd divide South America and give them each pieces of it. For obvious reasons, I can not that. If I could, I would. That's how much I love them. If you reviewed and one day you feel sad, just remember there is someone out there willing to give you freakin' Brazil.**

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"What the hell!" Jack screamed after Spot told him and the guys what had happened. Claire has gone home. She was too embarrassed to face her brother and the other newsies.. "I told her not to go!"

"What're we gonna do at Pulitza?" Spot asked and the Manhattan boys nodded. They all treated Claire like a sister since she'd lived with them for years.

Skittery, pessimistic and angry, spoke up. "Wese can't do nothing'! If we soak 'im he'll get da bulls on us. And in court who do ya think the judge is gonna fava? Care at remember da strike? I mean hate da guy's guts, and if I could I'd do something but we can't."

"Wait, wait, wait …" David trailed off. He didn't know Claire like the others did, but he knew how Jack and the guys felt; the same way he felt when he saw the Delancey's all over Sarah. "Instead of us getting taken to court, we could humiliate him."

"Whadda ya mean?" Crutchy asked. The newsies were looking at each other with confused.

"Dat's a great idea. Brilliant. Jus' one problem, whos gonna listen at what we say?" Spot asked irritably. He was still all for the idea of soaking Pulitzer.

"We ain't just gonna tell people." David said with a smile. "Picture this - 'Pulitzer Attacks Young Girl in a Fit of Rage! By Bryan Denton' across the front of every pape in the city."

"Except da Woild." Crutchy said laughing along with the other newsies.

"Now dere, is a headline even I'd like at hawk." Skittery said.

"Waddaya say?" Jack was in Denton's office. Denton was smiling, but then again he'd been smiling before leaving to be a war correspondent. He was back now and working on local stories.

"Brilliant. Totally brilliant. It works out beautifully for everyone!" He said chuckled heartily. "Claire gets revenge, you boys get a good headline and I have an interesting story to write."

"Yeah, about Claire, could she stay anonymous? She don't need old housewives gossipin' 'bout her, ya know? Plus this is gonna make it hard for her ta find a new job."

"Well how about this. We use her real name, the Sullivan one. As far as jobs go, I need a secretary if she'd be interested"

With Claire's approval, the article Denton wrote hit the presses of the Sun, the Journal and the Times the next morning. Two days later people were still laughing at the mention of the name Pulitzer. All the while Pulitzer sat brooding and pouting in his room. On the first day her dared to venture out, by some unlucky chance he ran across Claire on her way to Denton's office.

"Wench! Lying wench!" He yelled at her and started to sprint across the street. Claire just giggled. A protective arm around her shoulders tensed up as Spot pulled her closer. Pulitzer was only two feet away when Spot cleared his throat and shot him a menacing look. Remembering the black eye he still had, Pulitzer turned around and ran.

"Yeah! You bettah run unless ya want anudda shinah to match da foist!" Spot called out. Claire just smiled and turned towards Spot for one last kiss before work. "Love ya, Claire." He said gently to the girl still wrapped in his strong arms.

"Love you, too. You're coming for dinner tanight right?"

"Course. Wait, did you say tanight?" He laughed.

"Yes I did." Claire said proudly. "Oh how terribly upset Mother would be." She said with false regret. "Guess her effect wears off around you."

"Well Ise'll just 'af ta neva leave you, you needy goil you." He teased before kissing her goodbye.

After they broke apart Claire continued, "If being a needy girl means I get a knight in shining armor like you, I'll never defend myself ever again."

"Sounds like a plan." He said as she entered the Sun building.

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**Kids! It's not too late to get your own piece of South America but it's your last chance so review.**

**Hope you all liked my story. There should be a new one coming soon so stay tuned.**


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